


to sell you things that you ain't buying

by fictionalrobin



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: #SaveShadowhunters, Alternate Universe, Cigarettes, Flustered Alec Lightwood, Lifeguard Magnus Bane, M/M, Mentions of drugs, Mutual Pining, Pining Alec Lightwood, Waiter Alec Lightwood, flustered magnus bane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 04:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14947278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalrobin/pseuds/fictionalrobin
Summary: Every Sunday at exactly 2pm a man walks into the diner, and he never buys anything.





	to sell you things that you ain't buying

Every Sunday at exactly 2pm a man walks into the diner, and he never buys anything.  

The palm trees outside cast soft triangular shades into the beach diner. It's hot outside. Alec can practically _hear_ the heat. But he can also feel it. The door is open, and a soft wind pushes sand across the porch onto the worn out checkered floors. The AC is screaming behind him and doing its best to counter act the mid-June California weather. He'd asked Max to close the door behind him about a thousand times, and if it wasn't for the man, that number would've gone up to one-thousand-and-one by now. 

But he's too distracted.  

The man is standing by the sandwich display, closely inspecting a tomato-mozzarella sandwich, though Alec knows him well enough to know that he has no intent of buying it.  

That is the weird thing about this man. He comes here at the exact same time every Sunday, hovers around for a bit and then leaves. And the strange thing is; no one ever seems to notice him. And that is saying something, cuss this guy is...noticeable. 

It isn't just that he's handsome (which he is), but the guy dresses like a goddamn peacock. Bright neon colors and flowy fabrics, jewelry and make up, all layered on top of black trunks, that somehow tie it all together. But it might just be his brown skin and amber eyes. Or his amazing body, with a bicep like that anything had to look good on you.  

Yet, every time he mentions him to any of his coworkers, all he gets is a confused stare. Even Simon, who has a habit of noting every costumer's appearance and theorizing their entire backstory when he's bored, has never noticed him. But to be fair not many people work on Sundays, except for workaholic freaks like Alec.  

Today the man is wearing his usual black trunks and flip flops, but with a mid-length flowy shirt over it, that has a print that makes it look more like a vaporwave music video background, than an actual shirt. It did, however make his golden skin look sinfully delicious, as well as those perfect abs peeking through the open buttons at the bottom (not that Alec is staring or anything).  

The man ducks a little, seemingly inspecting the row of sandwiches underneath, before standing up and turning towards the door.  

Alec doesn't say anything. He directs all his attention towards the glass he is supposedly cleaning and begins to viciously rub the inside.  

Just another Sunday afternoon.  

- 

The next time Alec sees the man, he's wet.  

Well, wet is maybe a bit of an extreme expression. Damp seems more fitting. Whatever he is, it isn't dry.  

His shirt clings to his back in dark splotches. His hair hangs over his eyebrows instead of standing in its usual perfect purple-tipped spikes. And over all he looks completely exhausted.  

He slumps over to the counter and dumps down onto one of the turquoise barstools. The spine spins in a half-circle before he stills it with his foot against the counter and drags a menu card towards himself.  

Alec doesn't even know why he bothers. They both know he's just going to stare at it for a few minutes before getting up to leave. And honestly Alec is beginning to take it as an insult. 

He huffs and concentrates on cleaning the counter. But he can't help but let his thoughts drift back to the man and his wet wet back.  

Why is he wet? Has he showered? With clothes on? 

 _T_ _here's a beach right outside Alec Lightwood, why do you think he's wet?_  

Maybe the man is a mystical sea-creature. Steaming from the deepest depth of the ocean, where only the most mysterious of things steam from. There he swam around in rocky caves, hunting for food with his pack members, before making his way up to the shoreline. Maybe that's why he's so weird. Coming into a diner without ordering. Perhaps he doesn't know human etiquette? 

Or maybe not. 

Perhaps Alec is just a crazy person with too much imagination and too little to keep him occupied. Maybe he should just focus on cleaning this god damn counter instead of the stranger's broad shoulders stretching the wet neon colored fabric of his shirt.  

Or he can always ask him.  

Why is it never him who breaks the silence? Why can't Alec just for once in his life initiate a conversation, instead of always locking himself in a bobble where sea-creatures are real.  

It's stupid.  

He looks up from his counter, mouth already open.  

"hi, what can I-" 

But the diner is empty.  

The stranger had left, and Alec is yet again left behind with his shadow.  

- 

Alec is tired.  

The AC is humming behind him as he draws lazy circles on the countertop. The wind lifts the palm leaves outside, and the triangular shadows he knows so well dance over the checkered floor. 

It's the hottest day of the year. Or at least the hottest one Alec has ever experienced. Though it seems many people agree with him. The beach is practically deserted, save for a few tourists who insist on getting a burn before the leave.  

But the diner is empty. It's just him, the AC, and the radio. And the latter is broken and only ever plays one station, and that’s the opera station (and Alec is pretty sure he'll die if he has to listen to another half-assed remake of _Carmen_ ).  

There's nothing left to clean, not even the worn out checkered floor with the dancing palm-shaped shadows.  

he's alone.  

He taps the edge of the counter. The beige plastic clicks under his nail. Maybe he should get them cut. It's been a while.  

He sighs and wipes his forever sweaty forehead, and as he does his eyes fall on the clock he's been trying to avoid.  

It's past 2pm. 

And it's a Sunday. 

Not even the mysterious stranger wants to be here today.  

So why should he?  

He could go out for a smoke break behind the building. He's never been much of a smoker, aside from the few blunts Jace persuades him into smoking at parties, but Luke always kept a pack of cigarettes on the kitchen counter. Maybe that would help. And what a cute way that would be to become a chain-smoker. ' _I was bored_ ' great conversation starter.  

He pushes himself away from the counter and out the kitchen, grabbing the half empty cigarette package on his way. The plastic rapper (that Luke had a habit of leaving on) crinkles in his hand, as he shakes a smoke out. He opens the door to the tiny parking lot behind the diner and steps outside. Warm air hits him hard and spicy like a cloud of sand, and he hurries into the shade.  

Christ.   

It was even worse outside. But at least he doesn't have an AC shrieking directly into his ear canal, so he'll deal.  

He sticks the cigarette between his lips, just like they did it in the movies, and leans back. It tastes like paper and nicotine. He reaches for his pocket when he suddenly stops.  

Wait.  

He doesn't have a lighter.  

 _G_ _reat job Lightwood._  

Alec groans and spits the cigarette out. It on the ground by his feet with a soft thud. So much for becoming a smoker.  

"care to share?"  

Alec's entire body does a violent jerk. Really, it's actually quite impressive. He almost drops the rest of the cigarettes, before he calms himself.   

"whoopsies! Sorry, didn't mean to scare you..."  

Alec turns around towards the smooth voice and almost jumps again.  

The man. 

It's the man.   

The one with the wet back and the brown skin. Both his painted hands are raised apologetically, as if he's waiting for someone to play patty cake with.  

But he's here.  

And he's talking. 

To Alec.  

"I don't have a lighter," Alec says, almost in a trance. He knows he's starring. He knows it's weird and that he should stop. But honestly he doesn't care. Up until this point the guy was basically cryptid, even if it'd only been to Alec. And it's not every day a cryptid asks you for a cigarette.  

"oh..." The cryptid lowers his hands to pat his pockets. After a few seconds of patting, he fishes a lighter out of his shirt pocket. Neon colored of course. 

"here you go."  

He pushes the lighter into Alec's hand, but Alec almost doesn't feel it. He stares at it, as if he's expecting it to vanish at any given point. And maybe he is. It's pink, with a rubbed of illustration of a palm trees on the plastic. Alec turns it in his palm.   

"uh...thanks...I don't smoke..."   

"oh..." The man turns his head, "wait, then why were you trying to light a cigarette?"  

Alec shrugs, "it's my boss's. I stole them because I was bored."  

"huh," the man smiles, "well that's one way to deal with boredom. I'm Magnus by the way."  

 _O_ _kay, play it cool Lightwood_. 

Alec reaches his hand out, "Alec."  

Magnus's eyebrow twitches as they shake hands. His palm is soft and warm. Like the sand by the shoreline just a few feet away.  

"short for something?"  

Alec's face grows hot, "Alexander, but only my Granma calls me that."  

"well that's a shame. It's a nice name."  

 _C_ _an he_ _possible_ _get_ _more sweaty_ _?_  

"uhm...th-thank you?"  

Magnus's smile widens, and tiny crinkles form around his triangular eyes, "you're welcome Alexander."  

Oh wow.  

Alec likes that. He really likes that. Which is strange because he never really liked his full name. He thought it sounded stupid and old-timey. But when Magnus says it, it sounds perfect.  

Magnus leans closer to Alec, until he can rest against the wall next to Alec. Alec tries not to shiver. 

"so is this stealing your Boss's cigarettes thing something you practice regularly, or it just a onetime thing?"  

"are you trying to ask me if I come here often?"  

Magnus's eye twinkles, "maybe I am."  

Wait a second 

Are they flirting? Is Alec flirting? Alec Lightwood, major loser introvert and master of awkwardness? Flirting? With the hottest guy on the beach and proclaimed local cryptid? 

"uh..I-uhm...well I do..." Alec clears his throat and ignores how Magnus's amber eyes are making his skin tingle. Seriously, is this guy trying to kill him?  

"I work here."  

Magnus hums. He knows that. Of course he knows that. He comes here every Sunday. 

Oh yeah.  

Alec should probably ask about that.  

"is it nice working here?"  

"who are you?"  

Magnus's eyes widen, and Alec cringes at how blunt that was. He must've sounded so desperate. Not cool. Not cool and smooth at all.  

"uh..." Magnus shrugs and smiles, "I'm Magnus..."  

Yes, he knows that. God, it's only been five minutes and Alec is already screwing things up.  

"s-sorry..." Alec's toes squeeze in his sandals. They're maybe a bit too small, and he can feel the edge digging into his heel. He really should get a new pair, "it's just...you come here every Sunday 2pm stat, but you never order anything. You never speak, you never make notice of yourself...and I'm just...confused?" He looks up at Magnus and hopes he hasn't messed this up even further, "could you please explain?"  

"oh," Magnus looks taken aback for a moment, before he smirks, "oh...okay I can see why you'd be confused by that. My sister Catarina works as a life guard at this beach, and I fill in for her on Sundays. It's a volunteer thing. My shift ends at 2pm, so that's when I like to visit this diner." He smiles and gestures, "it's quite cozy."  

Huh.  

Well that explains it. At least some of it. That must've been why he was wet last Sunday.  

Wait.  

If he was wet, and he was a life guard, that would mean someone had gotten hurt. Had someone drowned?  

"was that..." He swallows, "was that why you were wet last time?"  

"huh?" Magnus furrows his brow, "oh! Yeah, a toddler tipped over in her floatie. Flipped her back over in five seconds. Nothing happened, she just got a big scare."  

"oh."  

Well that was good.  

"okay," Alec lets out a sigh of relief. A soft breeze whispers through the parking lot and rattles the palm leaves. It touches Alec's neck like and lifts Magnus's shirt, so more of his tan stomach peeks out.  

Alec wants to touch it.  

 _F_ _ocus Lightwood_  

"why do you never order?"  

This question Magnus doesn't answer immediately. He's quiet actually. Very quiet. So quiet Alec has to blink and make sure Magnus wasn't just a hallucination all along.  

But Magnus is...blushing? 

Which is strange. Magnus doesn't really strike him as a blushing type of person. But he's not complaining. It suits him. Very well.  

"uhm..." Magnus clears his throat and pushes a non-existent hair strand out of his perfect face, "uh..ha...well this is embarrassing...."  

"what?" Alec shifts so he can get a better look at him, "what's embarrassing?"  

"well it's actually kinda because...I wanted to..." He mumbles something, and Alec leans a bit closer.  

"what?"  

"I thought you were cute and I wanted to ask you out!" 

Oh 

 _O_ _h_  

"wait...what?"  

"yeah! I've had this...major crush on you for like," Magnus throws his glittering hands in the air, "three years."  

Three years? Alec hasn't even worked here for three years. Three years ago, he was in college taking his bachelor and- _oh_  

"wait, you're _Magnus Bane_? As in mad-Max; ultimate playboy party-champion twelve-shots Magnus Bane?"   

"yeah," the corner of Magnus's mouth twitches, "I was a bit crazy back then... I'd actually thought you'd gone back to New York after college before I saw you behind that disk. And then I just...well I guess I chickened out." Magnus laughs and shrugs.  

Alec is in shock. Not only has he just been asked out by the hottest guy in existence, but it turns out to be the party champion of his old college. The whole asked-out-part is still not quite getting to his head. He's used to being in the background. The type of person people don't really notice, until they accidently bump into him because they think he looks too much like a coat hanger.  

It feels surreal.  

"so you like me? Y-you want to go out...with m-" 

"can I get your damn number or not?"  

Alec blinks. Magnus has his arms crossed now, and both his cheeks are burning like the sun.  

"...yeah," Alec clears his throat and suppressed the goofy and surely ridiculous smile that's close to spreading on his lip, "yeah, sure." 

Magnus breathes out a sigh of relief that's so low, Alec almost doesn't even hear it. He fiddles with his phone a little, before handing it over to Alec, who double checks to make sure he hasn't written the wrong number, before handing it back to Magnus.  

"great," Magnus smiled as he shoves the phone into his pocket, "so, I'll pick you up here next Sunday?" 

"2pm?"  

Magnus smiles, "2pm."  

And then that's it. Alec walks back the the diner and waves goodbye to his soon-to-be-date. The palm leaves rattle and the waves crash. The sun beats down on the passerby's, and the grand mystery of Garroway diner has been solved.  

And Alec's glad it has. 

**Author's Note:**

> dumb thing I wrote to get over my writersblock
> 
> !!!!!!!PSA!!!!!!!!  
> so my both of my tumblr blogs got deleted, my main blog (@polar-robin) as well as my side blog where i posted my fan fictions (@fictionalrobin)
> 
> IF YOU KNEW ME ON ANY OF THOSE URLS THIS IS ME
> 
> i have yet to set up a new writing blog, so if you want to read my fics, you can just follow me @robinowich (it’s a lot of work to set up a blog and I’m already exhausted from setting up my main one)
> 
> no i don’t know what happened, to me it seemed random, however I had just edited my settings for the new privacy policy thing (WHICH IS IMPORTANT CUSS I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW IF ANYONE HAS EXPERIENCED A SIMULAR PROBLEM)
> 
> anyways, I lost 350 followers on one blog and close to 100 on the other, as well as three years of gain, and I had to set up a whole new email address, because tumblr still registered me as a user even though my blog had been deleted, and it just said “your blog has been terminated” when i tried to log in :’)


End file.
